


At My Grave

by SlipOfAScribe



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, Gen, Implied Tommy X Grace, Season Finale, Season/Series 02 Spoilers, Thomas Shelby - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-05 23:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12199470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlipOfAScribe/pseuds/SlipOfAScribe
Summary: "Tommy didn’t quit and he didn’t f--ing die. Thomas Shelby was cursed...But this time? Maybe the curse was lifted." A closer look at Tommy's mental state in the Season/Series 2 finale while he's standing at the grave. Originally posted on my Tumblr (see Handofthoth).





	At My Grave

Thomas Shelby was cursed to be at war internally. As much as he wanted for his family, he wanted for himself. Whenever his family spoke of his selfishness, questioned it behind his back in hushed voices, he knew the accusations rang true. Still, what he did, he did for them. The houses were business, but he gave them to family that needed them. The shit with bloody fuckin’ Campbell was his to deal with, but he was protecting the others. The growing business and taking down Kimber, that was all Thomas Shelby, and yet he wanted his family to benefit from it. This new war with Sabini, partnering with Solomons, was building Tommy’s fortunes, and his family was thriving with it.

He couldn’t help his ambitions, or rather, he didn’t want to stop them. Tommy needed the excitement, the fighting, the outsmarting of everyone around him while they all thought they were getting the best from him. Granted, Campbell and Sabini had gotten the drop on him a time or two, but still Tommy persisted. That was the problem with him, the problem for all the motherfuckers that would try to take him on. Tommy didn’t quit and he didn’t fucking die. Thomas Shelby was cursed.

But this time? Maybe the curse was lifted.

He inhaled smoke into his lungs, savoring the rush to his head from the chemicals and stared at the sky. Cursed, but he’d been so fucking close. “Nearly got,” his voice pitched up to yell at the blue sky, “Fucking everything!” He grit his teeth, eyebrows tight as he heard the gun cock behind him. This was it. This would be the end to Thomas Shelby’s curse, and he’d be cold buried at the bottom of the tunnels once and for all. He took a drag off the cigarette, turning to those who would end his curse. “Oh what the fuck,” he said taking one last drag and tossing the butt aside. “Get it done, boys.”

Tommy tossed his watch and chain into the dark earth of the grave. Grace might have loved him, but this world wasn’t enough for Tommy. Or it was too much. She’d have the baby with the American and be happy enough. That would be better for her, better than the shit that Tommy could offer her.

“Comrade,” said the one who seemed the leader, the one who’d been in the Somme. “We have our orders. You know how it is.”

Tommy nodded. Yes, he knew how it was. He’d had his orders, too, hadn’t he? “I know how it is.” The biggest of the three pushed him down to his knees. He steadied, closed his eyes and put his face to the warm sky again. “In the bleak mid-winter-”

He was kicked into the grave mid-sentence and he heard two shots go off. He heard them, both of them. They weren’t for him. A body fell in with him, the other sprawled up just in sight. Dead. And Thomas Shelby’s curse continued.

“At some point in the near future, Mr. Churchill will want to speak to you in person, Mr. Shelby. He has a job for you. We will be in touch.”

Fucking no, not again. This was supposed to be it, this was supposed to be the shovels breaking through and burying him for good. This was supposed to be his trench, the one with his name on it. Tommy looked around in disbelief, not yet able to move as he realized that his life was still beating in his chest.

“Get out of the grave, tinker.” Still, Tommy didn’t move. “Be on your fucking way!”

The burst of louder speech provoked his mind to motion. He stumbled upward, gripping the dirt and digging his way upwards, out of the trenches and away from the shovels. He glanced at the man, got to his feet and stared down at the other two, dead. Tommy stumbled back, turned and walked away. Fuck. No, this wasn’t what he’d just prepared for, this wasn’t…

Grace.

Tommy meant to step across the trench but his head was full of water and bees, so he missed and sprawled into the rich, dark earth. His hands gripped handfuls of it and he slammed his fists into the ground, yelling, “Fuck!”

He really was cursed. Pushing up from the ground, he wiped spittle from his face and kept for the road, breathing heavy and sobs wracking his chest. He fought between breaking down completely and pulling together a plan. Looking back up to the sky, the place he’d put his peace just minutes ago, a new idea formed.

Thomas Shelby wasn’t cursed, he was blessed. He was protected, and Gods help those who would wage war against him. A cool anger washed over him, and Tommy was ready for the world again.


End file.
